


Secret Admirer

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 00:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: One project is ending, another about to start, a dream being fulfilled. However, the pain of a lost love hangs heavily on Sam, especially this particular Valentine's Day.





	Secret Admirer

Sam Beckett was trying very hard to pretend it was just an ordinary day, like any other. So far, he thought he'd done a pretty good job of it. Being up to the button fly of his Levi 501's in work helped, and he was thankful for the distraction the ton of final reports afforded. They were in the middle of mopping up, in the aftermath of Project Star-bright. The government had already started dismantling the complex, anxious to make room for their next top-secret endeavor. Sam didn't even have his own office anymore, he'd been forced to share space in these final weeks, with the project's coordinator, Admiral Albert Calavicci.

It was far from a hardship; he and Al had become close friends in their time working together. More than that--best friends. They'd formed a bond closer than any Sam had experienced before. Supported each other, fought for each other...comforted each other.

Sam swiveled in his chair, glancing toward the desk on the other side of the room. Calavicci was engrossed in his own report, and didn't notice the scrutiny.

_If it weren't for Al..._

It wasn't the demise of the project Sam was depressed about, it had reached the end of its usefulness and it was time to move on. In fact, he and Al had been given the go ahead for their own project. After a month off, they'd be laying down the groundwork for Project Quantum Leap. Sam's dream.

He should have been more excited.

Instead, he was listless, barely able to concentrate on the reports he had to write. He hated the paperwork as it was. But tomorrow would be a better day. It had to be. It wouldn't be _today_.

The door opened and his secretary walked in, carrying a huge spray of red roses. "Dr. Beckett, these just came for you," she said with a warm smile, placing them on the desk.

"Uh...thanks, Marlene," he murmured, wondering who on earth would be sending him flowers. No one...and that was the depressing part.

"Will you be needing me for anything else today?" she asked, with an underlying tone to her voice that plainly said she hoped not.

He smiled. "No, you can leave. Have a nice evening, Marlene."

"You too," she said knowingly, glancing at the flowers again. "Good night, Admiral."

"Good night, Marlene. Have a _great_ night," Al added with a suggestive leer.

 _At least someone will,_ Sam thought, watching her leave. He leaned closer to inspect the flowers, tentatively, as if they might bite him.

Al whistled, eyeing the bouquet with raised eyebrows. "Something going on that I don't know about?" he asked teasingly.

"I don't know who they're from, there's no card..."

Al interpreted the look on his face accurately, as he had an annoying habit of doing. "Sam," he began gently, "they aren't from her. She's long gone, and she's not coming back."

"I know," Sam answered dejectedly. Suddenly not caring who they were from, he went back to his paperwork, hoping his intuitive friend would leave things at that.

"Looks like you've got a secret admirer," Al said with a wink. "Want me to help you find out who they're from?"

"Not really."

"Aren't you even a little curious?"

"Not really," Sam answered again, trying to get back into his paperwork...or at least pretend.

"Aw, come on, she may have a cute friend for me."

Sam knew Al was only trying to cheer him up, coax him out of the mood he'd been in ever since Donna left him at the altar. But that wasn't the kind of thing a person got over so easily. Not the betrayal, not the hurt, nor the shock...not even the embarrassment. He could barely look his wedding guests in the eye when he saw them now.

"Can we just drop it?" he said, harshly. "--I'm sorry Al. I'm just..."

"I know, kid," Al murmured with understanding. "I know."

Although he was glad his friend had dropped the subject, Sam soon found the silence getting on his nerves. He stared at the page of data in front of him, seeing instead the little chapel where she would have become his wife. Where they were supposed to pledge their lives to each other.

A voice startled him out of his memories, although he hadn't heard the exact words. He looked up inquiringly.

Al glanced at the clock and threw down his pen. "Well, it's quittin' time."

"Not for me, I still have to finish this report."

"The same report you started four hours ago?" Al asked pointedly.

"I'm almost done."

"Want to come over to my place for dinner tonight?"

Sam felt the familiar tolerant amusement, as well as gratitude. Still, he couldn't accept the offer this time. "You have plans tonight."

"How do you know?"

Sam gave him a knowing smile. "Valentine's day to you, is like Christmas to Santa Claus. I'm sure you have a whole bunch of 'rounds to make tonight."

"You really have the idea all I think about is sex?!" Al tried to defended himself indignantly.

"I said that very thing to you, just yesterday. That all you think about is sex. Do you remember what you said? 'What else is there'."

"Well, there are a _few_ other things," the notorious romeo admitted grudgingly.

"But none as important?"

"You think you know me pretty well, don't you?" Al confronted Sam's smug grin. "You'd be surprised."

"Um hum," he answered noncommittally, turning his attention back to the paperwork.

Al put on his jacket and headed for the door, pausing halfway there. "Don't stay in here workin' all night, y'hear?"

"I won't," Sam promised. "I can work just as easily on my computer at home."

"I'm calling your house at eight o'clock. You'd better be there to answer it."

"Yes, boss."

"Don't you forget it," Al said with a grin, closing the door behind him.

Once he was alone and the office was quiet again, Sam still couldn't concentrate. He found himself staring at the flowers for a long time. Finally, curiosity won out over his carefully cultivated indifference. Turning to the computer terminal, he quickly accessed the records of the flower shop nearest the project. As he suspected, they had a record of the delivery, and the name of the person who'd ordered the bouquet...

Al Calavicci.

Bemused, Sam shook his head and turned off the computer. He should have been angry...but he couldn't be. Setting him up with a mock secret admirer was just another of Al's attempts to help ease the pain he was going through. It made him feel warm inside to know he had a friend who cared about him that much. He knew he was a lucky man.

Not too long after that discovery, Sam finally managed to finish the report. Putting it neatly in his out basket, he stretched and yawned. Then he straightened his desk, checked his appointment calendar for the next day, watered the plants. Finally, he ran out of ways to postpone going home to that empty house...to avoid spending the evening alone with a TV dinner and television.

It would have been their first Valentine's Day as husband and wife.

Shaking off the morose mood with grim perseverance, he sighed in defeat and got ready to go home.

When Sam emerged from the building, the only vehicle left in the parking lot was his jeep. Everyone else had already gone home, to be with loved ones. Flowers balanced in one arm while he dug into the pocket of his jeans for the keys, he saw something which made him stop and stare.

There, laying on the front seat of the jeep, was a huge, heart-shaped box of candy.

 _Al!_ he thought, in stunned amazement.

After securing the flowers on the floor on the passenger side, Sam sat down and lifted the lid of the box. He found a note inside, unfolded it, and began to read:

_Samuel --_

_Today is about telling those we love how much they mean to us. Letting them know the joy they bring, just by their very presence in our lives._

_Whatever you do, wherever you go, there's someone out here who cares. You're very special to me, you always were and always will be. Your courage, your humor, your warmth and love--for all of mankind. You are a rare gift, bestowed on this world by a kindly God. Bestowed upon me. I'm honored to know you._

_I guess you are my valentine, because you'll always have a place in my heart._

_Signed, Your Secret Admirer._

Sam realized the note had left him misty-eyed, and shook his head at the absurdity of it. Thinking of how much trouble Al was going to for him...

He glanced at his watch, suddenly anxious not to miss the eight o'clock telephone call. It was only silly pride that had made him choose lonely exile tonight. Maybe he'd take Al up on his offer of dinner after all, if he hadn't made other plans.

XXX

Sam pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, jumping out and grabbing his gifts. He quickly unlocked the door and let himself in, skidding to a halt when he realized he had company.

Al was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in his hand. "'Bout time you got here," he said mildly.

Sam felt a big grin splitting his face, and tried to temper it. "It's only five after eight," he said, setting the stuff down on the coffee table.

"Where'd you get the candy?" Al asked with a good imitation of curiosity.

Sam decided not to let on that he knew just yet. "I found it on the front seat of my jeep."

"Someone's going to an awful lot of trouble to make your day," his friend observed.

"Looks like," Sam agreed.

"Well, it is working?" Al gazed at him with eagle eyes.

"Maybe," he answered vaguely, smiling inwardly. It might be fun to tease Al. "I was thinking about what you said--I think I should hunt this person down. Find out who sent them. In fact, I think I will."

"Aw, why spoil the mystery?" Al hastened to advise.

"What do you mean? You said I should."

"Well, yeah, but--isn't wondering half the fun? Believe me, the truth is always more boring than your imagination."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"She could turn out to be a dog. If she's afraid to show herself..."

Sam shook his head. "It's what's inside that counts, the outside doesn't matter. Whoever sent these must be a very wonderful person." He put the note down on the table in front of Al. "To write such beautiful words."

He noted that Al made no move to take a closer look at the paper. And was that a slight blush on his face?

"Sit down, will ya?" Al said, changing the direction of the conversation abruptly. "Have a drink." He took an empty glass and filled it with wine.

"Thanks," Sam accepted the wine, sitting down beside him.

"I propose a toast," Al held out his glass. "To friendship. This day is for friends, too."

"To friends," Sam echoed, feeling very moved. The wine spread a warmth through him as it went down. Al was smiling at him, his eyes twinkling in the lamplight.

_It's the inside that counts...the outside doesn't matter..._

Sam shook himself mentally, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Do I smell food?" he asked, grabbing at the diversion like a life-preserver.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I put a couple of steaks on the grill, salad, baked potato..."

"You mean to tell me you really don't have a date for tonight?"

Al smiled patiently. "Believe it or not. Valentine's Day is a special day. I don't spend it with just anyone, it has to be the person I'm involved with at the time. Since Tina is at her sister's wedding..."

"Yeah, how come you didn't go with her?" Sam asked.

"Her sister hates my guts."

"That explains it."

"I did send her flowers, though."

Sam opened his mouth, and just caught himself in time...he'd been about to ask what kind, in a bizarre kind of competitiveness. Deciding he'd had too much to drink, he set his glass down on the table.

Then, another, horrible thought struck him, and he did ask after all. "What kind of flowers did you send Tina?"

"Roses."

"Did you by any chance send her a box of candy, too?" _Computer error..._ The words rang in his head, mocking him. That somehow, they had made a mistake, delivered the stuff to the project instead of where it was supposed to go...

"As a matter of fact, yeah," Al answered. "I'm a romantic guy, believe it or not."

"I think...there's been a mistake," Sam said, barely above a whisper. He picked up the letter, handing it to Al. "I think this is yours. I guess they sent it to the wrong place."

Knowing his face was flaming, Sam was unable to stay there another moment. He picked up his glass of wine and fled to the back patio, not caring how strange his hasty retreat would look.

Embarrassment didn't even being to cover what he was feeling. Shame burned through him at the huge error he'd made--the things he'd assumed... He felt like an incredible fool. The flowers, candy...note, had never been meant for him at all. They were for Tina. How could he have been so dumb?

Like floodgates opening, feelings he'd been battling to control every day since Donna had deserted him came rushing out like an open dam. The sharp knife of rejection stabbed into his gut, mangling his insides while the loneliness and bleakness swallowed him whole. The voices, some real, others only in his head, taunting...

_How could you be so naive? She never loved you._

_If she really loved you, she wouldn't have walked out on you._ (Even Al had said used that line, although he only meant to help)

_She didn't love you._

Maybe there was nothing to love...

_She didn't love you._

Maybe no one ever will.

_Never loved you._

Didn't love.. _._

"I sent Tina _yellow_ roses, Sam," Al said quietly from the doorway.

Leaning on the stone wall for support, Sam kept his back carefully to Al. Not knowing what to say, not daring to speak.

When Al walked up behind him and he felt hands on his shoulders, he couldn't help tensing. He tried to wipe his face surreptitiously, to pretend the hot tears hadn't been falling down his cheeks.

Al didn't let go. "The note had your name on it. And how could box of candy that's supposed to go to Malibu, end up on the front seat of your jeep? Huh?" he asked in a gently cajoling tone.

"I...didn't think of that." Which only made him feel more stupid.

Instead of letting him go, Al's hands drew him closer. "Well, I really botched that up, didn't I?"

The words were so similar to Sam's thoughts, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I just wanted to break through that stubborn streak of yours. Let you know someone cares."

"Why, Al?" he whispered in anguish. "Why didn't she love me enough?"

"I've asked myself that same question more than once. You just never know with women, Sam."

"I thought maybe I wasn't good enough. Wasn't...lovable enough."

Al chuckled richly, ruffling his hair. "Believe me Sam, one thing you are, is lovable."

"Not like that dammit! Not like a puppy you pat on the head!" He met Al's eyes. "Like a...lover."

Then he broke free of the embrace and sat down on the ground, with his back against the wall. After a moment, Al sat next to him.

"I could be a good lover," Sam continued. "If someone would give me the chance..."

"She was crazy to let you go."

Al's quiet words brought a refocusing. Why was he feeling so lousy? The flowers and note had been meant for him, and it _had_ made him feel better, until the misunderstandings. "Did you really mean what you wrote?" he asked.

"Every word."

 _I'm your Valentine,_ Sam thought whimsically, stifling a giggle and wondering if he was finally going off the deep end.

A long period of silence followed, as if neither man knew where to go from there, what to say next...or were afraid to speak.

_Here we go 'round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush..._

"Al, do you love Tina? _Really_ love her?" Sam asked, almost conversationally.

After a brief hesitation, he answered. "Well...in my own way, yeah."

"You mean you don't feel like you're gonna die if you're not with her, there aren't any fireworks, the earth doesn't move, that kind of stuff?"

"Sort of," Al mumbled, uncomfortably.

Sam considered a moment. "I've heard you say that true love only comes along once in a lifetime. Does that mean we're both doomed from this point on?"

"Is that how you loved Donna?" Al asked softly.

"I don't know," Sam surprised them both by saying. "I thought so, but..." He gazed at his friend. "You know, you could love like that again, if you gave yourself the chance."

Al looked away, staring at some point in the distance. "It would have to be--someone--very special."

_You're very special to me, you always were and always will be..._

"I could be that someone."

Al turned back, looking at him in open-mouthed shock.

"Really." The beauty of the answer, simple and crystal clear, hung before Sam like a neon sign. Galvanized into action, he grabbed Al's arms so he couldn't run away.

"How--" Al stopped, then found his voice again. "How long have you had this in your head?"

"Five minutes."

"Sam--"

"A lifetime."

Without warning and before his courage could fail him, Sam leaned over and captured Al's lips with his own. He fought to get beyond the shock of contact, to observe Al's response. After the first moment of frozen surprise, the lips under his trembled, then, softening, parted slightly.

Al was kissing back.

Joy sang through his veins at the certain knowledge. He wrapped his arms around Al to keep them together, as they broke the kiss.

"Did that feel good?" he whispered against Al's lips.

"Yes," Al said, closing his eyes.

Stuck on the novelty of it, Sam couldn't help kissing those lips again. This time, Al's arms snaked around him like steel cables, and pulled him closer. The kiss he received stole his breath away, leaving him feeling dizzy when it ended.

"Are you going to stay with me tonight?" he asked.

"If you want me to," Al answered in a low voice that sent tingles up his spine.

"I want you," Sam confirmed.

"How come you're suddenly so sure of yourself?" Al asked bemusedly.

"You're my secret admirer."

"Not any more," Al murmured, pulling Sam close again.

**the end**


End file.
